


curtain's closed, time to go home

by greenglowsgold



Category: Scream (TV)
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, Gen, Mostly Gen, Post-S1, References to canon relationships, but not in an encouraging way, lil' bit of pre-braudrey, reference to canon adult-minor relationship, seth branson is gross as heck pass it on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenglowsgold/pseuds/greenglowsgold
Summary: Two weeks after the end, Audrey gets a call. There aren't any rules for this part of the story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: Major themes of abortion throughout this fic, and the emotions and decisions involved. If you think anything about that will bother you, please proceed with caution. Also, I did my research on what abortion laws are like in Louisiana (state based on where they filmed), but it might not be 100% accurate, since I've never personally been through the process and I tried to let it flow with the narrative.

Two weeks after the fight at the lake — which Noah rigidly referred to as the Final Stand — Audrey got a call from an unexpected number. Unexpected, but not unknown. They’d all traded information immediately after the attacks, mostly for Emma’s benefit, but no one was ready to answer a number they didn’t recognize for a while, yet. Still, it was a surprise to see the name Brooke Maddox on her screen.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me. Listen, what are you doing today?”

Right to the point. Well, it wasn’t like Audrey had expected her to call for small talk. “Uh, nothing really?” She glanced at the clock; it was ten in the morning on a Saturday, and she probably _should_ have some sort of plan for the weekend, but she’d been taking it easy. “Might head over to Noah’s later,” she added, trying to sound a little less pitiful. But then again, Noah still enjoyed using FPS games as a coping mechanism, and Audrey felt sick holding even a virtual gun, these days.

“Could you skip it?” Brooke replied quickly. Audrey tensed as she noticed the edge in her voice.

“Are you—?”

“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.” Audrey let out a sigh of relief, pushing away the unbidden images of a dark cloak and a mask. “It’s just, I need a favor.”

A favor? Audrey couldn’t imagine why _she_ was on the short list to do a favor for Brooke Maddox. Sure, they’d lived through some heart-stopping terror together and even managed a bonding moment or two in the chaos, but Brooke had actual friends who—

Audrey stopped, mentally bringing up a checklist of Brooke’s friends. Riley: dead. Will: dead. Nina and Tyler: jerks, and also very dead. Emma: currently getting the kind of professional help that the rest of them pretended they didn’t need, and with her absence, Kieran had drawn away, apparently dealing with his dad’s death in solitude. Options were lacking, but there was always Jake. Weren’t they dating now, or something?

Then Brooke told her what the favor was, and Audrey understood why she’d been called instead of Jake. Also, Brooke had lied; she was _not_ fine.

Brooke hopped onto the seat and shut the door wordlessly. Audrey pulled the car to the end of the driveway, clearing her throat as she hit the turn signal. “So, uh…”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “It’s fine. You can talk about it.”

Good. Audrey had never been great at curbing her impulses. “How long?”

“About two months, I think.”

“Didn’t you suspect it earlier?”

“My periods are pretty irregular.” Brooke sighed. “And, you know, denial is a powerful thing.”

Audrey decided to leave it at that. They’d all had a pretty stressful month, anyway, and who was she to judge? But, on that note. “Look, I don’t want to be that person, but are you… sure?” She winced even as it came out of her mouth. She hated to ask, but people made weird decisions after trauma. She and Noah had already had to check each other several times (everything from researching a move to New Zealand to an ill-advised tattoo), and Brooke had sounded so _off_ on the phone.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Audrey said quickly. “Sorry, I’ll shut up now.”

“It’s just — what else am I supposed to do?” Audrey glanced over, but Brooke was staring out the window, watching houses pass by. “I can’t raise a kid when I’m still in high school, and I’m not giving it up for adoption just so it can find me twenty years later and murder a bunch of teenagers.”

Audrey closed her eyes for the split second she could spare away from the road. She thought she heart the echo of a gunshot, but then Brooke spoke again, and it faded.

“Anyway, I’m sure. But the state has all these stupid laws about it, so I thought it’d be easier if I had someone along.”

Audrey nodded. “Sure. Not that I’m an expert on the subject or anything.”

“I did my research,” Brooke assured her. “God, you are so lucky you’ll never have to worry about this crap.”

“Still not a lesbian, y’know.”

Brooke shrugged, and Audrey didn’t bother arguing further. After all, this wasn’t exactly an advertisement for going straight.

Lakewood wasn’t a big town, which was handy when trying to narrow down a list of homicide suspects, but it meant they had to drive an hour south to find a clinic. Brooke plugged in her phone as soon as they hit the highway, and Audrey ignored her usual driver-chooses-the-playlist rule in favor of Brooke’s different — but surprisingly not objectionable — musical taste. By the time they pulled into a parking space, Audrey had a song she’d never heard before stuck in her head. It had a nice beat.

There was no one outside, whether because they happened to get the timing right or because of the wet, dreary day that had them jogging for the door. They stepped quickly through into the waiting room, where Brooke nodded at Audrey to take a seat while she went up to the window. Audrey pulled out her phone and started scrolling through a forum on home-brew special effects. She was knee-deep in a thread on fake blood when Brooke settled beside her with a clipboard and a pen.

It was more awkward than the car. There wasn’t any music to fill the background, just the slide of paper and scattered conversation around the room. Audrey didn’t mean to peak at Brooke’s paperwork, but it was a small mountain and her eyes occasionally strayed.

“You’re not on birth control?” she said, and then snapped her mouth shut. God, she had no filter today; it was like sharing a brain with Noah.

Brooke shook her head. “Can’t. I tried it once, but it screwed with my hormones too much. I’m a stickler for condoms, but I guess _that_ didn’t work.” She punctuated the sentence with a sharp stab of her pen, nearly tearing a hole through the page.

“I’m impressed Jake even made the compromise,” Audrey muttered. Jake seemed like the type to complain endlessly that it ‘just wasn’t the same.’ “He must actually care about you.”

Brooke’s lips thinned as she circled a column of yes/no options on the form. “It’s not Jake’s.”

“Then…” She knew that Brooke had dated around, but if it was just two months ago, then the options should have been limited. “ _Seth?_ ” she hissed under her breath, barely managing to stop herself from using his full (fake) name out loud in the half-full waiting room. They might be three towns over, but word had gotten around about the English teacher fired in disgrace for having an affair with an underage student.

“Yes, Seth,” Brooke said tersely. “Hence my intense need to make it go away.”

“Yeah.” Audrey slid her fingers along the smooth edge of her phone. “Yeah, um. Wow.”

Brooke put down her pen and sat up straight, settling Audrey with a firm look. “He doesn’t know.”

“Good,” Audrey said immediately. Brooke blinked, briefly surprised. “What, you thought I’d run off and tell him? Asshole never should’ve touched you in the first place; he doesn’t get a say in this.”

After a moment, Brooke nodded. “Okay. Just so that’s clear.” The rest of the forms were completed in silence.

Audrey had imagined she was along for the ride as a chauffeur and waiting-room support, but when Brooke’s name was called, she gave Audrey a sideways glance, biting her lip, and Audrey found herself standing up and trailing after the nurse along with Brooke. They ended up in a small, bright room with a doctor who had several pages of state-mandated information to read.

He looked vaguely apologetic as he went through the list of facts — and “facts” — meant to make people second-guess themselves, but Brooke took it all in stride. He talked about preliminary procedures and waiting periods and parental permission (“no problem,” Brooke said smoothly, and Audrey didn’t ask), and repeated some questions she’d already answered on the forms. Finally, he handed them over to a nurse, who lead them to a new room and left Brooke with a thin gown and instructions to change.

“Do you want me to…?” Audrey gestured to the door, but Brooke shook her head and pulled her shirt up, so Audrey turned her eyes to a poster in the corner of the room and waited.

The paper on the table crinkled. “Can you open the door and let them know I’m ready?”

“Yeah.” Audrey looked back and Brooke, sitting on the exam table. In the blue cotton hospital gown, shoes off and feet bare, Brooke looked softer than usual, for the first time like someone who really needed a friend sitting beside her. Audrey was suddenly very grateful that none of the staff had once questioned her presence.

There were a few more questions and a quick physical exam before the main event: the ultrasound. It was a requirement in less than a third of American states, so of course, Audrey thought, they had the rotten fucking luck to live in one of them.

“There it is,” the technician said gently, and a hand shot out of nowhere to grab Audrey’s.

She looked down. There were Brooke’s slender fingers, white from the contrast of dark maroon nail polish and how tightly she was squeezing, twined between her own. Audrey squeezed back. She watched Brooke take a deep breath and open her eyes, and Audrey followed her gaze to the screen.

It looked… like a baby. More like a baby than Audrey had expected, considering Brooke was still as skinny as ever.

“It looks like you’re about ten weeks along,” the doctor said. Brooke nodded wordlessly, eyes fixed on the image. “There’s the head.” He pointed out a round lump, and his finger trailed along the shape. “And the torso. The legs aren’t very clear, but they’re just here.”

When Audrey looked down, Brooke’s eyes were damp. Shit, shit, she didn’t know what to do, she was terrible at this. Two weeks ago, Audrey had shot a woman in the chest, and now she was staring at a sonogram. Brooke should have brought someone else. But it was too late for that now, so Audrey lay her free hand on top of Brooke’s and stroked a thumb against her wrist in as soothing a rhythm as possible.

“It’s about an inch and a half long right now. The organs should be starting to function on their own, but they’re still growing.”

“Is it—” Brook caught herself, falling silent.

“It’s developing normally. Healthy. But it’s too early to determine the gender.”

Thank God for that, Audrey thought. An inch and a half; no bigger than her thumb, really. How could it look so much like a baby, she wondered as the doctor went on pointing out features, when it was so small? It had _fingers_.

Then the technician hit a button, and a soft, steady _thump thump_ echoed from the machine. Brooke’s breath audibly caught. The room was filled with that deafening, rabbit-fast beat.

“There’s the heartbeat,” the doctor said unnecessarily.

Noah would have said that pregnancy after a massacre was a sign of new beginnings, life after death, all that shit, but that was only if it was wanted. This was… she wasn’t sure she could make it _mean_ anything, except that she was here to see it. She stared at the shape on the screen that looked like a baby but would never really be a baby, listened to the sound of blood pumping through it, and tried not to make more of this than it was. The same went for the feeling of Brooke’s hand in hers.

“I have to come back on Monday,” Brooke said softly, staring at the still image left on the screen as the technician began to put away the equipment. “For the abortion.”

Audrey’s thumb kept running across Brooke’s skin, over and over. “I’ll come with you.”


End file.
